"You won't take his word?" "No." "Why?" "Because I do not like the man," and our hero's face filled with sudden bitterness. What if Dr. Mackey should prove to be his parent, after all? How St. John would rejoice in his discomfiture! "I suppose this Dr. Mackey is a very common sort of man," continued the spendthrift, in an endeavor to add to our hero's misery. "What do you know about him?" "Nothing but what I heard at the village." "Is he down there now?" "Of course not. He went with our troops." Jack drew a sigh of relief. It was likely that the doctor would not show himself in the neighborhood for some time to come, probably not until the Federal troops had departed. "I am going to talk to my aunt of this," said St. John suddenly, and, without another word to Jack, turned his steps toward the plantation home. CHAPTER XIX. A SUMMONS FROM THE FRONT. St. John found his aunt too busy to spend much time talking about Jack's past and Dr. Mackey's claim, and it was not long before he took his departure, feeling that he had gained nothing by this new attack upon our hero's welfare. "I wish I could get him out of the way," he muttered, as he walked homeward, by a side road, so as to steer clear of the Federal troops. "If only he would join the army, and get shot down." He entered his home filled with thoughts of Jack and Marion, but all these thoughts were driven to the winds after he had read a communication which had been left for him during his absence. The communication was one from a well-known Southern leader of the neighborhood, and ran, in part, as follows: "Many of us think it time to call upon you to take up arms as we have done. With our noble country suffering from the invasion of the enemy, every loyal Southerner is needed at the front. Join our ranks ere it be too late. The muster roll can be signed at Wingate's Hotel, any time to-day or to-night. Do not delay." As St. John read this communication his face grew ashen. "Called upon to join at last!" he muttered. "What shall I do now? What excuse can I offer for hanging back?" "What is in your letter, St. John?" asked his mother. "They want me to join the army--they say every man is needed," he answered, with half a groan. "To join? When?" "At once." "What shall you do?" "I--I don't know." His legs began to tremble, and he sank heavily on a chair. "I--I am too sick to join the army, mother," he went on, half pleadingly. Now Mrs. Ruthven did not care to have him leave her, yet she was but human, and it filled her with disgust to have her only offspring such a coward. "You weren't very sick this morning." "I know that. But the sun has affected my head. I feel very faint." "If you don't join the ranks, all of our neighbors will put you down as a coward, St. John." "They can't want a sick man along," he whined. "They will say you are shamming." "But I am not shamming. I feel bad enough to take to my bed this minute."